A Ghost of a Chance
by DeviKittyWolfe
Summary: Twenty something Nassana has one small annoyance now that she is Listener to the Dark Brotherhood, and it isn't the crazy jester who acts like a servant whenever she returns to the Sanctuary. What has the spectral assassin Lucien Lachance so touchy feely? Rated M for language, death, and sexual content. You have been warned. On Hiatus due to lack of creativity for story
1. Chapter 1

**Before you begin I would like to admit one thing. The story ahead was both inspired by other fan fictions I have read recently and my love of Lucien Lachance. He always seemed a bit deeper than he let on in Oblivion and I was deeply upset when he was killed during the Dark Brotherhood quest line. When he reappeared as the spectral assassin I was more than overjoyed at seeing him. So, in my typical fashion, I have placed him with one of the many Bosmer assassin/thieves I have played and this time decided to add a little bit of romance to the dashing assassin. This is completely off storyline so please forgive that. I did try to stick to things I believe he would do and my own thoughts of my Bosmer.**

"I grow restless Listener." the deep voice spoke the words softly right into the ear of Nassana, Listener of the Dark Brotherhod. The small Bosmer flinched but somehow kept her bow steady on her target, wishing to the Divines that Astrid hadn't handed the once Speaker to her. She dealt with the cold that seemed intricate to his spectral form, and she actually was glad to have someone who was able to keep up with her in the many crypts she frequented. The issue came from how close he would get to her, the touches he would run down her spine at the worst moments. She never really sent him away, even when walking into Dragon's Reach, but the thought had been becoming more and more tempting. She knew that one of the reasons he even showed any deference to her, beyond her being Listener of course, was the fact she followed the Tenets as much as she could. The only times she ever thought to break any was when it was ordered by either the Night Mother herself... or when Astrid had been alive. Lately however his deference had become something more. The nights when she would pass out in one of her many homes she would find her pelts covering her and him sitting beside her on the bed, reading as if that were where he belonged. When she was trying to be careful with her kills he would touch her or, like just now, speak right into her ear. She sighed softly and loosed her arrow, the projectile finding its mark in the heart of the bandit she had been looking for in the cave she stood in. Slowly she stood upright and listened, waiting to see if there was any others who might have escaped her killing spree. When not a sound was heard she turned to the specter and growled, letting a bit of her beast add an edge to the sound. "Sithis take you Lucien Lachance! Are you trying to get me killed? If so why not do it yourself and save others the trouble?"

The specter just smiled as he rose from his kneeling position, as if he had waited just for her to yell at him. That infuriating smile made Nassana lose her temper and she balled her fist up, wanting to hit him. Before she could move he moved closer and ran a finger down her cheek, surprising the young Bosmer, yet again, with the fact he could feel so solid. "My dearest Listener, I would never harm you. But your slow methods make me wish to speed you up a bit."

"You are a horrible liar Lachance. I don't know what made you go from helpful teacher to an Imperial spirit bound to touch me when ever possible but this has got to stop. You are going to get me killed one of these days." Nassana retorted, her voice tired as she turned from him and began walking to the body. She carefully pulled her arrow from the corpse before straightening. Just before she could move on, strong arms encircled her body, a cold chin resting on her shoulder. "Dear Listener forgive my actions as of late. I would never choose to endanger you. If I thought a situation was not one you could handle I would gladly jump into the fray before you had a chance to loose an arrow. My blade is yours, as I have told you many a time."

Nassana froze as he murmured into her ear, part of her trying not to shiver as she listened to his baritone voice. She tilted her head away from him, embarrassed by the blush that began creeping up her cheeks. "To the Void with you Lucien. Now. I will summon you later and we will speak about this... whatever this is. I have work to do and do not need you distracting me."

Lucien released her and stepped back, bowing at the waist as he began to fade away. "As you wish my Listener. I shall wait for your call in the Void."

Lucien was always conscience when he was in the Void with the Dread Father and the nIght Mother. In the past this only gave him time to become bored, as he had nothing to do but await a new summoner. During those times he would listen to the lessons that Sithis and the Night Mother would give him to pass the time, learning more than he had thought he could when he had been living. Now, however, his thoughts rested with his current summoner. The Bosmer woman, with long red-brown tresses and blood red eyes. Her curves begged to have a hand cup and stroke them, the siren's called not at all hindered by the Nightingale armor that the elf chose to wear when out. Her husky voice filled much of his day dreams, especially the times the sultry sound would say his name. The once Speaker of the Dark Brotherhood knew he was obsessing, which actually made the situation a bit humorous for him.

He wasn't the only person to obsess however, and that thought made him want to growl into the nothingness around him. Cicero, the mad jester who was Keeper of the Brotherhood, seemed infatuated with the Listener. The Jester would spend hours in the woman's presence when she was at the Sanctuary, brushing her hair for her, getting her meals, and talking in that high pitch voice that grated on what little nerves Lucien had to grate. He did give the madman a bit of credit, his attention to detail was immense. If the Listener would appear injured and try to hide it till she was in her quarters, the jester would follow her and grab the unchild to help him take care of the woman.

Beyond Cicero there were others, beings Lucien would have gladly sent to the Dread Father if not for their parts in the Listener's life. The red headed Nord who had recruited the Listener into the Thieves Guild came to mind when he wanted to rant about the fools that did not understand the woman's worth. The man would constantly show in the Listener's Riften or Whiterun house for no reason, and spend the entire evening attempting to seduce the young Bosmer. Luckily, in Lucien's eyes, Nassana was much too smart for him and typically laughed away the attempts before sending the man on his way.

Lucien wished he could claim that his obsession stemmed from his orders to serve and protect the Listener that the Dread Father had given him. Alas, even he could not lie to himself. Even in his years of life no other woman had proved such an enigma to him. A competent mage, decent alchemist, and member of almost every guild in Skyrim the woman was equal parts mystery and contradiction. She would kill a bandit or a target with no remorse, the fire in her eyes giving way to the cold remorseless killer she could be. Then, after cleaning up, she would go to the home she had in Falkreath and play with the two children she had adopted prior to joining the Brotherhood. She would heal a sick beggar then pickpocket a merchant without second thought. She would assist a mage with a spell then use a spell to incinerate someone who insulted the Companions. Her dual personality, the caring hero and the ruthless killer/thief, had him wondering what other surprises she had in store for him. He had heard whispers in Whiterun, whenever she was asleep and he wandered the town, of her being Dragonborn. The thought of it made him laugh at first, that the small frail looking woman was actually a hero of legend, until he watched her shout a dragon from the skies then once she killed it absorbing its soul into herself. He had once asked why she did not hone her skills with the Greybeards and her answer left him with more questions than answers.

_"I am no Nord, Lachance. The Greybeards hold no sway over me. I will do what I can for this country first, then sit at the feet of the masters second." She said,in answer to his question, her hands carefully tanning the skin of a deer she had killed on their way back to Whiterun. Lucien rolled his dark eyes, his mind on her most recent exploits of stealing random items from Markarth. "I do not believe that assisting the Thieves Guild can be considered doing what you can for this country, Listener."_

_The Bosmer chuckled at his words, the sound as husky and sensual as her words, her hands pausing as she looked up to the spectral vision beside her. "Lucien to many what I am to the Brotherhood is the same as being a thief. Would you agree with that? Or do you feel that at times a death is necessary to help a country?"_

_Lucien paused and tilted his head, her logic nearly sound. "A death may help a country but what good does stealing an object do?"_

_"The object may belong to another anyways. Or, to be even simpler, sometimes thieves are necessary to a country's balance. We need thieves to continue on things like smuggling, breaking small laws that have no real meaning. They make us question our safety, keep us on our toes in a different way than an assassin would. Assassins typically get jobs to kill people that are an annoyance, or that are horrible people. They help keep a balance, just as thieves keep a balance. The darkness of night must balance the light of day." She answered, returning to her task. His brow furrowed at her words, the logic sound and coming out as though one of many ages had spoken, not a twenty something woman who barely looked old enough to own her own home. The random wisdom that left the woman always astounded him, making it harder to question why the Night Mother had chosen the young elf to be her Listener. When the young woman had first summoned him, he had been equal parts relieved it had not been Astrid and angered he had been given to a woman child who's deeds made him question why she was an assassin. During times like this, however, her wisdom surprised him. They have had many conversations since she had received the spell that brought him from the Void, each one giving away a hidden deepness Nassana had. _


	2. Chapter 2

Suddenly a sensation of being pulled from the Void interrupted his thoughts, a smile crossing his face as he answered it. No matter how much he had annoyed her, she seemed to need him more than she would let on. His form wavered into the Listerner's bed chamber within the Sanctuary, his eyes first alighting upon the unchild putting a salve on to the side of the the Bosmer's ribs. A hiss leaves the young woman, the sound drawing a look from Babette as she worked. "You wouldn't have broken ribs and a few new scars if you hadn't sent Lucien away."

Lucien watched as the elf just smiled at Babette and shrugged a bit, clearly about to lie about why she had sent him away. "What can I say Babette my dear? I really am a glutton for punishment."

The mad jester's laugh almost made Lucien flinch as he came into the room, a tray with many medicinal herbs laying upon it. "Oh Listener. You slay Cicero. However you should have returned home and had Cicero or the one of the other children follow you. You are very important to all of us. And Mother would be very upset with you if you were to be killed."

Lucien cleared his throat, not actually from necessity but to catch the Bosmer's attention. Nassana looked up to him and smiled sheepishly, her evident anger from early gone in the midst of having the others look over her wounds. "Greetings Lucien... So seems I might have been a bit hasty in sending you away the other day."

Lucien glanced at the calender that the woman kept in her room, noting it actually had been almost a week since she had sent him away. At times he forgot that time does not have meaning in the Void. What would be days on Nirn would pass like minutes beside the Dread Father. He smiled, moving closer to the bed to assist the unchild with removing some of the armor on the elf's body. " You made it longer without me than I would have thought. I do suppose that means I am not as necessary as everyone seems to believe."

The elf snorted then growls as Babette, whom had managed to thread a needle while they were distracted, and was beginning to sew a very deep gash Nassana's left shoulder. The vampire raised an eyebrow, unhurried by the growl, and continued her work. "She may not always need you but the wounds she has could have been avoided if she had someone to assist her. If I were any good at actually fighting I would say she should take me but alas a child's body is not meant for battle, only subterfuge."

"Cicero agrees with the unchild. The Listener is a formidable fighter but much of her injury would have been avoided if she had someone to help." The jester said, following some instructions that Babette was murmuring to him as he spoke. Lucien raised an eyebrow, not seeing many wounds from his point of view. As if knowing his confusion, Nassana motioned with her right hand to her back. "I got distracted. I was fighting a dragon and didn't notice the very large cat and snow bear charging me. That is until large claws caught me. Fought them off and started here just to have a group of bandits appear while I was wounded. I dealt with them but earned a few broken ribs and the new scar on my shoulder. Honestly the claw marks aren't that bad. The worst is my shoulder and my ribs."

His eyes went to the unchild in time to watch her strange eyes narrow at the Listener, the vampire not one to hold her tongue. She tugged on the thread, earning another growl from the elf, before looking to Lucien with a sigh. "Her back is infected. Cicero and I won't be able to hold her down and get the infection out. Her wolf blood, as well as her Bosmer genes, could take care of the infection on their own but I want clean them just to be cautious. You are the only one who would be able to hold her down. If Arnbjorn..."

The vampire stopped and looked down, her grief obvious. Even Cicero became quiet, knowing that his foolish words would not assist the vampire through her thoughts. The most surprising was Nassana, her head lowering as she muttered under her breath, her tone sounding more than a little angered but not at anyone in the room. Lucien rested a hand on Babette's shoulder and nodded once, letting her stay silent as he glanced to the elf on the bed. "I will assist in keeping her in place as you do your work."

A little over an hour later Nassana was on her stomach, asleep after the ordeal, as Cicero began cleaning up the rags soaked in blood and the various other types of things they used. Lucien followed the vampire and sat in a chair in the unchild's room, letting her sit on her bed before he looked at her, his gaze questioning. "What did the Listener say? When you paused I mean. You were closest and with your vampiric senses I do know you would have caught her words."

Babette looked at the floor and sighed heavily, her hands clasping on her lap. "The Listener blames herself for not getting here fast enough to save Veezara and the others. She believes that she shouldn't have trusted the way Astrid spoke to her the day she went to Solitude and into the trap laid by Maro. Her words were 'He would be here if I had been fast enough.'"

Lucien's eyebrow raised as he listened to the youthful vampire, surprised again by the oddity that was the Listener. Arnbjorn had a good death protecting the Sactuary from its attackers. He wouldn't have left any blame on the Listener after it was discovered that Astrid had been the one to betray all of them either. The feeling of guilt that often filled the Listener's thoughts always left Lucien wondering what could cause such separate degrees in her personality. Babette watched the Listener's face as he thought over her words, a small smile crossing her child like face. "Speaker what has you so confused?"

"Our Listener seems to be a woman of extremes. Her extremes in personality are perplexing to say the least. She has murdered in cold blood, no life filling her ruby eyes as her blade or arrow finds its mark. Yet she cares for little orphans, the members of this Family, and even for members of other guilds. The mentality she has seems a maze even to me." Lucien answered honestly, the unchild being the only one who could remember Nirn as he remembered it during his life time, which gave him a small sense of familiarity with her. The vampire child nodded and giggled softly, her amusement obvious in her glowing eyes. "She is a complex puzzle. She treats me like she would her orphans, even knowing I am not truly a child. She brings me sweetrolls sometimes and has come in when I am about to rest to read me a story. I almost feel as though I have a mothering figure in my life. And yet I watched as she slit Astrid's throat with no remorse held in her eyes... I don't know what could cause such extreme differences in her actions. I do know that as long as we are a Family she will always watch over me... and Cicero, who needs it more than I."

"Cicero heard that unchild. But Cicero knows you are right." The Jester walked into the room, a book under his arm as he plopped onto the ground beside the bed Babette sat on. "Cicero is not made for the world Cicero lives in anymore. The Listener has helped poor Cicero more often than she would probably admit to. She is a kind hearted woman who treats Cicero like he is part of her family even after what he did to the pretender and the sheepdog."

The vampire child smacked Cicero's shoulder, as a warning not to speak ill of the dead then glanced at the book he held. "Cicero, what is that you are holding?"

"Ooooh! Cicero almost forgot. Cicero found this in the Listener's bedside table as he put away some things." the madman announced as he lifted the obviously well worn book. "Cicero took a peek and it is an old journal of the Listener's. It looks like one before she became a member of our Family."

Lucien moved faster than either the vampire or the madman could react, yanking the item from the jester's hand with a small sound of annoyance. "You have broke Tenet four. Never steal the possessions of a Dark Brother or Dark Sister. To do so is to invoke the Wrath of Sithis. This belongs to our Listener. Why did you take this from her room?"

Cicero balked as Lucien spoke, the usually warm, if a bit indifferent, tone of the specter's voice coming off cold and nearly violent. The Jester scooted away from the spirit before him, his head lowering. It was obvious that the Keeper had not thought before he acted, this fact the only thing staying Lucien's hand. He would not kill one of his Brothers but he was not above harming one for breaking the Tenets. Babette stood and moved between the two, her usual calm a boon as she gave Lucien a piercing look then turned her gaze to Cicero. "Keeper Cicero... please tell us why you stole this from Nassana's room."

The jester clasped his hands on his lap, looking almost like a child who had been caught doing something he thought hadn't been too bad of an action. "Cicero wanted to understand the Listener. Seeing that it was an old journal Cicero thought he could learn something to help him understand her. Cicero was going to return it once he had finished. Cicero swears he hadn't meant to break a Tenet."

Lucien wanted to groan at the other man's words, not sure whether to laugh at the idiot on the floor or torture him for a few hours. While even he was curious about what was in the journal rest in his hand, there were reasons such rules exist. A worse thought was that Nassana's reaction would be worse than his own if she had found out that Cicero had taken the book. He had a feeling, considering how often he read books in her house including her more recent journal, the Bosmer would not think twice if she caught him with this. Cicero, however, was a different story. He was the type to tell many whatever he found in the pages or ask questions that would not be welcome. Lucien turned away as Babette began chiding the madman as the specter went straight to Nassana's room. Shutting the door behind him, hoping that the others would see that as a sign to stay out, he sat on the bed bed side the still sleeping elf. His eyes followed the rise and fall of her back as she breathed.

Sighing he pulled the pelts that she had kicked off her legs back to her hips, knowing she wouldn't wake as he did. Leaned back against the headboard and glanced down at the journal, his mind debating the possible repercussions of him reading the secrets of the young woman. After a few moments he smirked, signs of the man he once was showing on his face as he flipped open the journal.


	3. Chapter 3

_First Seed, Tirdas 8_

_Today is the first day I have owned a journal as nice as this one. It took Father a great deal of time to craft this, finding the right amount of paper and the right kind of leather to bind it. I would be happy, if it was not another day the elders reminded me of my title by adding additional training to the ones I am already having to do. Eighteen years of this and it drives me insane. Being born on the night of a blood moon should not be a reason to assign a child the honor of being trained as an assassin. Thievery is another thing they have been teaching me, saying that with the Altmer hunting our kind nearly to extinction we must be able to know many skills. What use is thievery? I asked them this over and over before they told me that children like me were to keep the balance. Balance? I do not know why they think that the Altmer care of balance. Our village has moved more than once to hide from them. Oh well. I am sure that the skills as an assassin will be of more use to me should the Altmer find us._

_First Seed, Firdas 11_

_Sorry I haven't written till today. Mother has been teaching me to cook along side my lessons the elders have me doing. She keeps complaining that a young woman should be able to cook should she marry. I know she hates that I am being trained like this and Father refuses to choose one of the many families willing to marry their sons off to me. Father wants me to have a choice in my love. Love... What love could someone who will only know violence have? Father thinks I will be a good parent though, just like Mother. He saw me with some of the little ones next door and swore I had nearly a glow about me. I just like children. I also like helping the mad man who frequents the square. The poor man is treated so badly. Mother claims I have such a gentle heart. I don't think mother understands that helping him helps me cope with what I am being trained. Paranoia, poison, and stealth seem to be my future. My teacher told me that a good assassin must lose some humanity to be good at what they want me to do. I don't want to kill though._

_First Seed, Mondas 14_

_Seems I will only be writing every three days at this rate doesn't it? An old assassin came to help teacher with me. Teacher claims I have the skills but not the ability to do what I need to do. I had no clue what he meant until I met the assassin. The man looked normal until I met his eyes. He was so cold, like there was no life behind the shine of his eyes. I got some emotion out of him half way through training though. I messed up, when don't I honestly?, and his anger appeared. I saw the life jump into his eyes and he got in my face. Even though he was yelling at me I didn't show him fear. I yelled back, in fact. And he laughed... His laugh was so beautiful. He told me that fire I had would get me far if I could learn to close my heart to my enemies. I asked him how anyone could do such a thing and he answered with possibly the most frightening answer I think I have ever heard. "Think of what your enemy will do if they got past you and to those you love." I need to be as strong as that man. I don't think I can do what he said yet._

_Second Seed, Turdas 17_

_I am in love. The assassin has been working with me since First seed, helping me hone my skills. That alone shouldn't be enough to bond us, and if someone reading that thinks this you would be only partially right. We talk after my lessons, eating lunch under the flowering branches near the training arena. He is much older than I, possibly in his 30__th__ year, but he is so warm underneath the coldness I saw in him that first day. Tonight he walked me home, holding my hand as we talked. My heart was pumping so fast as we neared my door, I was that nervous. When we reached my door he raised my hand to his lips and kissed the palm. He told me I had to be the sweetest woman he had met in years and that I should hold onto a small portion of that kindness no matter what happens. Then he kissed my forehead and made me go inside before he would walk away. I don't know what he meant but it could have to do with the rumors of the Altmer coming back to Valenwood. Soon I will probably see real battle. Most of the elders that train us claim this is where we will lose our gentleness... I am scared. Not for myself. For Father, For Mother... for Him._

_Second Seed, Fredas 18_

_They are coming! Valenwood is completely under attack, our tree villages are being lit from under whole towns. Why would the Altmer do this? He will be leaving tomorrow to help another town who needs more scouts. I begged for him to let me come with him, to let me help him, this afternoon after training. We were alone under the branches we ate lunch at, and he had just told me he was leaving in a couple days. I cried when he told me he couldn't... And then he kissed me. He told me he couldn't take me cause he would be more worried about me than himself. Knowing I was safe would make the fight easier on him. He wants to become cold during battle, I know it... And I now understand what he meant that first day. He wants to be cold to defeat his enemies so they won't make it here. He walked me home after all this and kissed me again, his touch seeming almost desperate to have something of me fresh on his mind. I made him stay put before I ran inside to grab my necklace. Father gave it to me last year on my birthday. I ran back as fast as I could and put it in his hand. Father engraved my name on it so if I lost it someone would return it. I told him to wear it and he would always have me with him. He only smiled and put it around his neck before cupping my cheek. He promised to come back to me... I don't know if that was an empty promise or not._

_Sun's Height, Mondas 15_

_He's dead... The elders came to the house today... They had a letter for me, one he wrote almost as a will of sorts. They had three chests with them too, two large enough for weapons and armor. One was small... I read the letter first. He told me he was sorry if I was reading the letter because it meant he was gone. I won't go too into detail, I don't want anyone who didn't know him to know such words. His words were for me. He did leave me his armor and weapons... and my necklace... I haven't fully stopped crying since. Father and Mother are worried about me. I don't care. I lost the only person that understood me. The Altmer and the Empire deserve no remorse. I will become stronger. I will stop this._

_Sun's Dusk, 15_

_I don't really know what day it is. I left home three weeks ago... I think. I am walking to Skyrim. I hear that there is a fight between the Empire and the Nords happening. Some man named Stormcloak is taking on the Empire. This is the perfect chance for me to hit the Empire as hard as I can ... A new letter appeared before I left. It was from HIM... I was so mad I almost ripped it up, I thought someone was playing a cruel prank... Till the elder that brought it stopped me. The elder told me that I shouldn't tear it up. He said ...he had two wills. One was the one I received the day I found out he was gone. The second gave instructions to give me the second letter should I decide to leave town. How he knew I would never know. It …. It told me not to use revenge as a reason to fight. To keep from fighting till I am able to have a better reason. A family, friends, and someone I loved... He wanted me to love someone else... After what happened to him. The last lines the letter said "You do not have to do as I ask in this letter. I am begging that you consider it. If you read this I died keeping the Altmer from you. My death was to keep you safe because I love you. I want you to have a reason as important as you are to me." I still carry both letters in my armor, I will see if Skyrim gives me a reason to care... But if not I will kill until I die in battle. May I meet him on the other side._

_Morning Star, 20_

_I no longer try remembering more than a date so forgive that. I made it to Skyrim just to be captured before I did anything. I was caught with the Stormcloaks in an ambush. I had barely been in the area for more than a few hours and they were going to kill me. Then a dragon appeared, right before I was to be executed. A dragon! I feel like the world has become upside down. I found you once I was basically released by a Nord named Hadvar. I even found my bow. I couldn't find his letters. When the man noticed my panic he asked about it. When I pointed out I had letters when they caught me he told me they had been read and burned. I would have attacked him for it if he hadn't apologized three times when telling me. I no longer have those or my necklace. Hadvar told me one of the others had taken it. I almost wish I had followed Ralof... At least I could have killed some of those bastards and possibly gotten my necklace back... Oh well. I still remember what I promised myself and wrote in this. I will see if I can find a good reason to fight._

_Morning Star, 30_

_I'm a parent... Oh no I didn't give birth or anything. I gained a house about 4 days ago. It's a long story but I now I have a home in a town named Whiterun. When I was walking to Dragon's Reach, the Keep here, I saw a little girl begging. I talked to her and she told me her name was Lucia. She spoke about her parents dying and the rest of her family kicking her on the streets. I took her in... I had to. She reminded me of myself. Before his death. I loved my parents... I still do. And thinking that something might happen to them... No I refuse to believe that they are hurt or in danger. I wanted to give that child a home. Luckily, I now have a housecarl, her name is Lydia, so she will have someone to watch her when I leave town. I need to look into this country, learn its secrets, and find out what I really am. I won't go too much into that. Being called a title I don't understand isn't worth mentioning. This is my last page though... I guess I should find another. This will stay with me though. I won't let myself lose my purpose. To stop the Altmer. To stop the Empire. Hopefully I find a way to get them focused here instead of Valenwood. I think I understand what he had meant now though. I would kill any that attacks my home or tries to keep me from coming home to this child I have under my wing. She needs me... and I think I could come to love being her parent._


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello ladies and gents who are following/favorited/or just came by to read. I am currently going to be working on stories that have a lower word/chapter count than the other stories for this coming week then I will get back to those with a lot already written. Sooooo here is the list of stories, in no particular order that you will not see an update for at least 4 to 5 days:**

**Darker Side of Space**

**Once a Saint**

**Her Silver Fox**

**Ghost of a Chance**

**Forgive this minor lapse in story, as I have 7 in the works and only one is even close to being done. This page will be reverted to the next chapter of a story once I update the story you have found this on.**


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